


Guiding Steps

by TheBarghestsNotebook



Series: A Dance So Divine [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 23:23:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13646568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBarghestsNotebook/pseuds/TheBarghestsNotebook
Summary: When you put two leads together, it can be hard to finish the dance. For trust, even in the smallest form, can sometimes be hard to give.





	Guiding Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Not as poetic as my other works in this series, but not every relationship is flawless, right?

One step, two step, three step, four.

Oh, the miles we must have waltzed across this floor.

It would have been much more graceful if we both stopped trying to be the lead. If only it could have been that, in the end, it did not matter and we just danced together. But not if you are trying to waltz a step that was not previously rehearsed. We knew the moves, we knew the tells, but our dance could easily become as spontaneous as the weather.

“My love,” Hannibal said, bringing me close and looking me in the eyes. His voice was soft, but no matter how composed he thought he was I could see in the frustration in his eyes. And no doubt he could see it in my eyes as well. “I do believe we are coming to an impasse.”

“I am sorry,” I said. But only partly. 

He started moving, pressuring the small of my back to move me with him. As we stepped, I had to keep bringing my attention back to what he wanted, to what he was guiding me to do. It is hard to follow when one knows the steps, it is hard to follow in general. Hard enough, truely, to give up any bit of one’s autonomy, even something as trivial as this. But I would do it. It was a challenge I had been given and I would beat it.

So then, maybe, I would give him exactly what he wanted. I would follow, and I would do it eagerly.

He stepped, I stepped, we stepped now.

Oh, the miles we were waltzing across the floor.

We came to a stop at the end of the song, our breathing even and our hands still clasped together. The next one began to play and we started moving again. This time, however, it was different.

“I do not know this song,” I said to him.

“I know,” his lips held the slightest of smiles.

Calculated.

Being a predictive person has its downsides. When dancing to a song, one may try to guess the tempo, which leads to focusing more on the music than their partner.

“My love.”

I looked him in the eyes again. His softly hard eyes, eyes that peered at me through layers of masks and false expressions. Eyes that very few ever got to really gaze into.

“Please,” he said, low and quiet, barely above a breath of a whispers, “trust me.”

I felt my chest deflate, my pride going with it. Such a strange feeling, but not one that left me feeling sick or beaten. He had that way about him, that air of something that made it so that no matter how many times he asked, disappointment never left his tongue. 

“Okay.”

One step, two step, three step, four.

We continued to dance across that floor.

That beautiful floor with barefeet and graceful steps. Gliding where we could and landing when we should. A different scene, a composed scene, a scene of matched poise and asymmetrical bodies. He lead, I followed, and together we were an art piece. We told stories we our movements, we sang with our hips, we sang with our smiles.

Five step, six step, seven step, more.

We danced.

We danced.

And we danced.


End file.
